Percy's Mission (24 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Buddy wasn’t sure how long he held Charlene, but she finally quit crying. He held her for long moments more, and then gently disengaged himself. “We need to survey the place with the meter. Find out if we have any radiation leaks.”
Charlene rubbed her face for a moment with both hands, and then nodded. “Thanks, Buddy. I’m sorry I lost it like that.”
“Don’t worry about it. We were entitled, I think.”
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.
“Go ahead and get the things you brought up put away. I’m going to check the radiation.”
Charlene took the few things she’d brought with her and put them away in the trailer’s second bedroom where she had stored the stuff she’d already brought up. She hesitated for a few moments, and then quickly began to move everything to the other bedroom. The one Buddy was planning on using. If he argued about it, she’d just have to convince him.
With that thought, Charlene felt herself relaxing a little and she smiled. She stepped out of the rear door of the trailer and walked over to Buddy. “What’s it look like?”
“Well, the berm and steel door are keeping most of the radiation out, but we need to avoid the area in front of the big door. Everywhere else is fine.”
“What about the truck?” Charlene asked. “It’s parked right there, in front of the door.”
Buddy shook his head. “The radiation won’t hurt it. But I think I’d better get everything out of it that we may need before the radiation level gets any higher.”
He handed Charlene the survey meter and went to the truck to unload everything. When Charlene started to help he motioned her back to the safer area of the building. “I’ll take care of it. No need for you to increase your exposure any more than necessary.”
As he worked, Buddy continued to talk. “I checked the power system. The EMP protection worked, or we wouldn’t have the lights. We could have dealt with it, but having power is going to make things so much easier. We won’t have to run the genset as long as the solar power and wind systems hold up.”
Buddy frowned. “Maybe the fallout won’t build up too much. The solar panels are slanted pretty good.” Like her short crying jag had helped her, Buddy seemed to need to talk, at least for the moment.
“We should be just fine, even if the photovoltaic panels can’t get enough sun. The battery bank is charged and we do still have the wind turbine and generator. We also have alternative sources of light and heat for cooking. Warmth shouldn’t be a problem. The temperature stabilized at fifty-five degrees after I closed the place up. Need a jacket or sweater, but it shouldn’t be too bad. We can turn the heat on for a bit when we take showers and all.”
“What about nuclear winter?” Charlene quickly asked when Buddy fell silent.
“I don’t think it will happen… Well… Not nuclear winter. But I’ve been seeing things about the Gulf Stream. If it fails, we’re going to have bad weather for sure. Not like it hasn’t been strange, anyway. I’m not sure whom to believe. The global warming people or the new ice age prophets. I just hope there weren’t too many nukes used. Like I said, I don’t think that would cause nuclear winter, but I’m worried about some of the nukes setting off volcanoes or something. A big volcano or two, on top of the stuff in the air from the nukes might just cause a cooling trend. I just don’t know.”
“Well, we’ll weather whatever the weather does. You’ve got us pretty well set up here. How long could we stay in the shelter if we had to?”

“Easily two months. But the stuff I’ve read, we should be able to go out after a couple of weeks after the last nukes go off in this area. We’ll just check with the meter every so often and when the radiation is down, we go out and take a look.
“I wish now I’d put some kind of camera system in, but I was afraid the EMP would get it.” Finished with the unloading, Buddy walked over to the side of the structure, near where Charlene was standing. “We do have the periscope, such as it is.”
Reaching down, Buddy grasped the handles of the hand-built device. It was made of heavy pipe and pipe fittings, quality mirrors, and throttle control cable. It was counterbalanced with lead weights suspended by steel cable. With a grunt he lifted it to viewing level and took a look around. Other than the particulates that were the fallout, everything looked normal. It was still bright and sunny.
“Amazing,” he said, stepping away from the periscope so Charlene could take a look.
She had the same take on it as Buddy. “But it looks normal, except for the fallout!”
“That’s what I mean,” Buddy replied. “It just seems like it should be different, somehow.”
Charlene took another look. “Yeah. It is weird. I don’t know what it should be, but a bright sunny day with dust in the air isn’t it.”
“Exactly.” Buddy helped Charlene pull the periscope down and secure it. “Not much left to do, except maybe get a bite to eat, maybe read, and wait for the radiation to peak, then fall to a safe level.”
Buddy didn’t say anything when they went into the trailer and he saw that Charlene had put her things in with his in the one bedroom.
Their days were much as Buddy had said. Sleep, eat, read, watch DVDs. And check the survey meter several times every day.
It was boring, but they got through the two weeks. Buddy checked the periscope, and everything looked the same. It was a clear, sunny day. There was no ash in the air. But when they began checking with the survey meter at the door, the level was just below one Röentgen per hour. The fallout had peaked at 988 Röentgens per hour.
“We can go out for a few minutes,” Buddy said, looking at Charlene. “Just to check things. We’re going to need to stay sheltered most of the time for three months. But barring a renewed attack, we can at least get out and do some things.”

“Three months! Oh, Buddy!” Charlene went into Buddy’s arms. He held her for a while, but she calmed herself. “I’m sorry, Buddy.” She managed a small smile. “It just I’ve never been through a nuclear war before and don’t quite know how to act.”
“It’s all right,” Buddy said. “I’m not too thrilled with the situation, myself. But I plan to live to a ripe old age, and that means avoiding increasing the risk of cancer any more than I have to.”
“I’ll cope. As long as you’re willing to hold me from time to time.”
A soft look came over Buddy’s face. “You know I will.” He took her in his arms again and kissed her.
Then, stepping back, he added, “Let’s at least go take a look around. And I want you armed, just in case.”
Charlene nodded. One of the things they’d done to pass the time was firearms training for Charlene. Buddy was no great shot, but he knew the basics and taught them to Charlene over the two weeks. They were able to shoot the pellet pistol and rifle Buddy had, to familiarize her with shooting. One of the things they’d do once they were outside was get a bit of target practice, with the firearms, so Charlene would be comfortable with them.
Buddy was by no means a serious gun collector, nor had he stocked up on “survival” weapons. He had an old M1 Garand his father had picked up, along with the Colt 1911A1 .45 ACP that had belonged to his father as well.
In addition, he owned a Marlin 336 .30/30 for deer hunting; Remington 870 12 gauge pump shotgun for upland birds and waterfowl; a Ruger 10/22 .22 rifle and a Ruger Mark II .22 pistol for small game and for fun; and a Beretta Tomcat pocket pistol in .32 ACP. And because he once thought about getting into Cowboy Action Shooting, he’d bought a cowboy model Marlin 1895 .45-70, the Stoeger 12 gauge Coach gun, a Marlin 1894 in .45 Long Colt, and two Ruger New Model Blackhawk convertibles chambered for .45 LC and .45 ACP, along with an ADC .45 LC double barreled derringer.
His only real “survival” related firearms purchases were his “bug-out” rifle, a Savage 99A in .308 with Williams peep sight, a thoroughly modern Glock 21 in .45 ACP, and a ten round magazine extension for the 870 pump.
The weapons practice would have to wait. For the moment the main concern was just being outside for a few minutes. Despite the radiation exposure, Buddy and Charlene were glad to go out for a little while. They both donned Tyvek hooded coveralls with attached booties, slipped on dust masks, gloves, and rubber boots and went outside. Buddy had the tanker holster on over the coverall with the 1911 in it.
For the first few seconds they just enjoyed the sunshine. Then Buddy lifted the binoculars looped around his neck and looked toward the city. Charlene saw him blanch. She looked in that direction. Even without the binoculars she could see the smoke. Silently Buddy took the binocular strap from around his neck and handed the binoculars to Charlene.
When she used them, she could see what had affected Buddy. There were signs of numerous fires, some long burned out, but others still smoldering and smoking. A large part of the city had been destroyed by the blast and shock and the resulting fires.
Buddy walked up onto the top of the shelter and surveyed the rest of the property. He also checked the gate with the binoculars. The gate was still closed. He doubted if anyone else would be up here, but he couldn’t be sure. Many people were fleeing the city that day and probably in the days afterward. With the radiation levels dropping, they were going to have to keep an eye out for things.
The next day they went out again for a little while. Besides checking on things, they began to decontaminate the top of the shelter and the area around it. That became the routine as they waited for the time to pass and the radiation level to fall.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Charlie didn’t think about it until a couple of days later when he went to wash up. He hadn’t decontaminated when he’d come back into the drainage pipe after sealing the end of the pipe and bringing everything in. He took everything and shook it out and brushed it off in the furthest corner of the basement, then stripped and washed thoroughly at the same spot, then hurried back into the tunnel.
When he began to feel nauseous a week into his shelter stay, Charlie reread the series of articles in the paper, concentrating on the ones about radiation sickness. The best he could determine he must have got a dose somewhere between fifty and two-hundred Röentgens. He would probably be sick, and might have bleeding gums and loose some hair, but it shouldn’t be fatal. According to the paper.
Though he didn’t feel like eating, he heated water at least once a day and made a meal of the food he had on hand. He had no way to purify the water seeping into the shelter, but it stayed clear and did not seem to be adding to his distress. Charlie ate when he knew he should, and slept most of the rest of the time, his body in the process of repairing the damage done by the early radiation damage.
The simple plan he came up with was to stay in the shelter until there was evidence of activity outside, or his food ran out. Already ill from the radiation sickness, he wouldn’t be able to afford to wait very long, if any, to find more food after his accumulation ran out. He’d be too weak to do anything if he waited longer.
He had a little diarrhea during the second week, but there was no way to tell if it was the radiation, the water, or just the overall situation. He had to take the bucket he was using for a toilet, adding some of the earth to cover the waste after each use, to the garage and begin using another. But that was all right. He had plenty. Charlie felt pretty good about the fact that he had enough energy to load it into the wheelbarrow and move it without collapsing.
At least he was getting some exercise moving the water buckets he kept filling from the seep. A little exercise seemed to help, though he did spend the majority of time lying down, much of that time sleeping.
Between the food the workers had left behind the day of the attack, plus the Ramen noodles and other foods he had on hand that day, Charlie was able to stay in the tunnel for twenty-seven days. He had not heard any sounds of activity outside the basement in that time.
He had his last package of Ramen noodles, and put the last energy bar in his pocket before he readied the bicycle and cart to set out to find more food, at the least. Perhaps better shelter, too. Maybe even a relief operation.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

When it became obvious that night that Edward and the others would not be coming, Angela thought Emily took it rather well. Angela told her that the radiation was already over two thousand Röentgens per hour. Emily seemed clueless, so Angela explained that if Edward, the Cutters, and Courtney weren’t in shelter long before now, they would die of radiation poisoning within a few hours.
Angela decided not to mention it to Emily when the day after the attack she was checking the area using the camera and saw Courtney stagger into the back yard, look around hopelessly and fall to the ground. She didn’t move again. Angela shut down the camera.
Fortunately, whoever equipped the shelter for Edward, for it certainly had not been Edward himself, Angela was sure, had included plenty of activities for the children to occupy them.
Despite the toys and games, the DVD player and movie selection, the children got restless not being allowed to go outside. Angela said a little prayer, hoping the person that had stocked the shelter had made it through. Besides the activities, and the long-term storage food, plenty of “comfort” food had been stored, too. The adults, as well as the children, were much the better for it.
Emily let Angela take charge. She took care of the kids and what little housekeeping was involved. Angela took care of the operation of the shelter, monitoring the ventilation, power, water, and sewage systems. Angela used the camera a few times a day to check on their surroundings. Several times all she could see was thick smoke. She saw a pack of dogs one day, early on, and the next time she checked, Courtney’s body was gone.
They fell into a relatively easy routine for the weeks they stayed in the shelter. For they did stay in the shelter until the radiation had dropped to under one Röentgen per hour. It took over two months.